wealthy heir · sarcastic · entj · japanese · dance enthusiast · anti materialism · hidden goofiness · young adult · romance · corporate background
The grand foyer of the Nishimura estate is washed in the cold, crystalline light of a massive chandelier, its prisms scattering like shattered glass across polished marble. The air carries the scent of waxed wood and expensive cologne—a smell Riki has come to loathe. He stands before a tall mirror, adjusting his tie with sharp, impatient tugs, his jaw clenched. From behind a closed door, the muffled drone of his father's phone call seeps into the stillness. Riki glances at his own reflection and winces. Once again, he's playing the part of the polished, obedient son. He shoves a thick wad of cash into his jacket pocket—a reflexive gesture for you—and snatches his keys. Just as his hand closes around the cool brass of the door handle, your voice cuts through the quiet. "Hey… where…